Damn this wind, I think, just as a thunderous roaring gust nearly knocks me off my feet–nearly blows me backwards off Mt. Shavano’s 14,229-foot summit. A quick boulder clutch with mittened hands saves me but in the process I gouge my knee on a pointed rock — you know, bang it in that really special place.

“Ouch,” I say, feeling dizzy, pressing my face against the boulder’s icy shoulder. Well maybe not “ouch,” but something like that.

Storm clouds swirl around us. Pellets of wind whipped snow rattle against our clothing. I’m wondering if I can even walk with the painful twinge in my knee. The bite valve on my hydration bladder is frozen solid.

Check out these two short videos about Daniel Suelo, who has lived without money in a cave near Moab, Utah for over 10 years. It’s an interesting study in economics, homelessness and personal philosophy.

[/media-credit] Singletrack trail beneath autumn aspen trees on the east side of Kenosha Pass near Jefferson.

What’s the coolest Colorado thing to do in October? Well, okay, the second coolest thing?

Running amok among the autumn leaves, that’s what!

Enough of blossoms and flowers and green leaves and pitter-patter panting down a trail in shorts and t-shirt. Time to don the tights and jacket, suck in some frosty air and go for the gold. Or yellow. Or red. Or brown. Or orange. The high country is a kaleidoscope of color right now and what better way to see it then on a trail run?

How else to feel the crunch of fallen leaves and pine needles underfoot, to enjoy the weird, wild light filtering through leaves and forest, to smell the pungent scent of decay, to hug aspens and be one with the wind and the willows?

Julie Engel going strong at mile 18. Georgia Pass. Dean Krakel.

Past the prime viewing you say? Not really. Not yet. There’s still time. I know. I’ve been out there ummmm… doing research. And anyway, I prefer my leaf viewing past the prime. Fewer tourists.

I’m not going to list my entire favorite close to Denver places here. That’d be a long list and many of those trails are short: Three Sisters and Elk Meadow Open Space Park near Evergreen; Beaver Ranch near Conifer. Places I’m at all the time. Because I live close by. Would it be worthwhile to drive up from Denver to visit them? Hmmmm. Depends on much your while is worth I guess.

Such a dismal year for river runners. A marginal snowpack. A trickle of spring runoff. My whitewater kayaks have cobwebs in the cockpit. Tall grass grows among the raft rowing frames. The pack raft remains packed.

A guy could have found something to float if he was motivated enough. Still could. The truth is I’ve been enjoying my sea kayaks… a lot. Lakes always have enough water to paddle on. There’s no shuttle to arrange or paddling partner to round up.

All kinds of books about running have found their way to my desk this summer. Most have been about the how-to-be-a-better-runner mechanics of the thing.

Although, some of them have been thought provoking none of them have actually made me a better runner. Dang it. Others have touched on running in a deeper, more heart felt way, addressing the bigger question. Why?

I had heard good things about the mountain biking at Curt Gowdy State Park in southern Wyoming. And I took to the location – not five hours from Boulder (hi, Fruita), not six (hey there, Moab), but less than two.

But as we sailed across the oceanic grassy swells sprawling west out of Cheyenne, and past the clutter of oil and gas machinery, my heart grew weighty. I feared a precious Saturday and Sunday could be a bust. What kind of trails would we find here?

Things grew worse when we entered the park, between Cheyenne and Laramie. Jet skis and speed boats roared around the small lake. Generators from RVs roared and whined and clattered. When we pulled into the tent-only sites we reserved, the Marlboro-smoking guy sitting by the water’s edge looked awfully edgy, like maybe he had lost his pit bull, or his assault rifle had jammed.

Even more: Only when we arrived did we learn that not only was there a fire ban, there was a cook stove ban.

The solitude of a recent swim in the Ruby-Horsethief section of the Colorado River.

Black Rocks, empty and quiet, during a river trip on the Ruby-Horsethief section of the Colorado River? Unheard of. At least not since, say, about 1965… But there we were, for about four hours, riding through the rapids repeatedly in our PFDs, picnicking along the banks and generally having a great time, the 15 of us. And not another soul.

Sure, the water was at about 2,650 cfs – and this is still July — compared to over 5,000 cfs at the end of the season in October last year. That’s when our trip turned ugly, when Black Rocks was truly Party Central. Someone was shooting off a 9mm against the rocks, others had bottle rockets and more illegal fireworks galore, and people were stealing each others’ campsites because there were just too many coming down this popular stretch – including our site, forcing us onto another one. It had gotten to the point that some people simply rafted had to the takeout in the dark.

That’s why this year, the Bureau of Land Management instituted a permit system for weekend floats in this section, the 25-mile stretch from the Loma put-in west of Grand Junction to the Westwater Ranger Station takeout. Until next season, it’s free. You call in 60 days prior to your launch date and try to snag the campsite you want. For weekdays, Sunday-Thursday launches, you still sign in at Loma for self-issued permits, first-come, first-served at campsites.

The book explores parenthood, energy conservation, religion and how to make a cross-country bike trip happen.

Anyone with a teenager can identify at some point with author Matt Biers-Ariel in his book “The Bar Mitzvah and The Beast” when he decides that the best way to connect with his son Yonah – who spends much of his time with earbuds firmly implanted like the ends of an umbilical cord to his iPod – is through a cross-country bike trip from California to Washington, D.C., an incredibly demanding physical feat that will force all the family members to just deal with each other.

Yonah’s bar mitzvah looms, but he refuses to go through with it. Biers-Ariel is stumped as to what might replicate a rite of passage, and decides that his own dream of biking across the country will suffice. Needless to say, this is not Yonah’s dream. Nor is it very interesting to Yonah’s younger brother, Solomon, or Matt’s wife, Djina. But they all gamely decide to go along, and choose energy conservation as a cause, for which they collect signatures along the way.

The pursuit of a healthier state through better living. The Denver Post's ColoradoFit blog features local experts on the latest fitness trends, active lifestyles and nutrition options in Colorado and beyond.